


The Train Problem

by lost_in_dark_places



Series: The Asset, his Mission [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Flirts, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes melts down, Bucky Hates Doctors, Gen, He has good reasons, Hurt Steve, It's adorable and heartbreaking, POV - Sharon Carter, The results of super soldiers not meeting their energy requirements, Vague Medical Happenings, even in potentially life threatening situations, with the person potentially threatening his life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:40:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_dark_places/pseuds/lost_in_dark_places
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a ethical/psychological thought experiment and variations involving a runaway trolly/train, in which you can save a group of people by sacrificing a bystander.  Ethically, you should always choose to save the group.  Psychologically, your answer is very telling.</p>
<p>Sharon regrets rejoining S.H.I.E.L.D. very much, Bucky scares the shit out of the entire med staff, and we get some answers to the Train Problem.</p>
<p>Follows directly after Field Assignment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Train Problem

**Author's Note:**

> All standard disclaimers apply, please don't sue.

Sharon was on her way out when her phone rang. She sighed. She already missed the C.I.A. Why did she want back into S.H.I.E.L.D. again?

The phone kept ringing. She answered, “Go for Carter.”

“Agent 13, we have a problem,” it sounded like the nervous bastard running medical, Cole? Cane? Reminded her of Sitwell. Not the name, obviously.

“What kind of problem?” She asked patiently.

“Rogers is coming in full of bullets again,” Agent Cole-or-Something said. Sharon’s stomach dropped, she really had no right to care but—

“That’s not my kind of problem,” She tried to keep her voice dry around the lump in her throat.

“Yeah, except Barnes is hovering over him like a junk yard dog with his favorite bone. My medic says she’s in fear for her life and I don’t want to put anymore of my people in that situation with out protection.”

“So call in a security team,” Sharon suggested, even though she knew where this was headed.

“We will, but we’re talking about _Barnes_ , here. We need a top Agent, someone who has a chance against him.” Most-probably-Cole sounded really distressed.

Sharon did the math and, yeah, most of the top-tier were either where Rogers was coming from and tied up in the wrap-up, or assigned elsewhere. S.H.I.E.L.D. ranks were filling in, but mostly with baby Agents and raw recruits. That’s why they wanted Sharon back so bad.

_Leaving me to maybe shoot a bit of family history in the head if he flips out. Fuck._

“I’ll be down in five.”

She really should have stayed with the C.I.A.

* * *

Sharon and the security team were already scrubbed in and waiting when they came rushing in: The medic in the lead spilling medical acronyms and status reports; Barnes bringing up the rear watching everything and everyone near Rogers like he was expecting an assassination attempt, and clutching a knife like it was his only life-line.

No one tried to keep Barnes out of the operating theater even though he was the dictionary definition of not sterile, and that meant that Sharon also got to stand in the room where they were taking Steve apart. Luckily, she had a bug-eyed assassin to focus on.

It could have been her imagination, but she could almost feel his awareness bearing down on her. She was the biggest threat to him in the room, put there specifically to thwart him, and he knew it. Sharon began to accept that she would never have to tell Aunt Peggy how she killed Bucky Barnes, because even if she managed to stop him she wasn’t going to survive it.

It gave her a certain clarity while she was waiting.

* * *

Finally, the surgeon declared that they’d found all the bullets, and they closed Rogers up. The entire circus, Sharon included, trooped off to post-op, where Steve was given a private room. The remainder of the med team got Steve settled in with the monitors and various I.V.s and then there was a bit of dickering that resulted in a mass migration and a single scapegoat.

The lone Nurse shot Sharon a look of wide-eyed terror before turning to Barnes.

“Ah, well.” he cleared, “As you w-would know, Mister-uh-Sargent? Barnes, the ah-Captain came through surgery as well as could be expected, and with his healing factor picking up again the prognosis is—is extremely good.” He paused for a response. Barnes ignored him.

“In light of that,” the Nurse continued, “We-the Staff-were wondering if you would like to, well, leave?”

Barnes looked up from Rogers for the first time since they'd gotten there, and the Nurse stumbled from the force of his glare.

“No.” Barnes said. Then he grabbed one of the chairs that were pushed against the wall, dropped it next to Steve’s bed, and settled in like he never planned to leave.

“Oh. Okay, then.” The Nurse shot Sharon a pleading look. That look was echoed by the security staff, all of whom clearly wanted to make like the med staff before them.

“Okay, I’ve got watch,” Sharon said, thinking of the nice analyst position with only occasional intrigue she gave up to come back to this mad house, “Any medical personnel in this room, should be accompanied by two guards until Rogers is up though.” she said, because she needed somebody to keep the Techs out of the way if something went leftward.

“Right, I’ll spread the news,” the team leader said, signing the rest out, “Hey, good luck with that.” he jerk his head towards Barnes before following his team.

“Yeah, thanks a lot.” Sharon said, as the door shut, “Asshole.”

Barnes grunted, which may have been agreement or a laugh.

Sharon went to get a chair an received the undivided attention of one J. B. Barnes for as long as it took her to drag it over by the door, but as soon as she settled Barnes went back to ignoring her. Sharon checked her watch, and yes, she should have been off shift five hours ago. Considering that anyone else qualified (for certain definitions of qualified that include  _will probably die anyway)_ to ride heard on the former Winter Soldier had either seen combat in the last twelve hours or were on another continent, Sharon wasn’t really expecting a relief shift.

She watched Barnes watch Rogers long enough to ensure that he wasn’t going to explode into violence, then she moved the chair to overlap the door a little and allowed herself to doze.

* * *

She snapped awake when the door hit her chair, and shook herself into focus while she moved aside. The med tech and his security detail filed in. Barnes stood and watched intently while the Tech checked Steve’s vitals, I.V.s, ect.

Everyone filed back out. Barnes sat. Sharon reset her chair, and tried to relax again.

Eventually she succeeded.

* * *

Next time she woke up it was because some one was talking. The had the sense that it had been going on a while, it’s just the voice was so low. . . .

“. . .Thought we were through with this, Pal. Couldn’t I live one life with out sittin’ next to waitin’ ta see if you’re gonna die? Gotta be on my third or fourth now, and I ain’t chancin’ that I have any more to spare. . . .” there was a creak, Barnes shifting in his chair, “Prob’ly traded them off to you anyways, if I had ‘em. And what do you do?” There was a sound, to heavy for a sigh, “You’re killin’ me, kid.”

And Sharon realized that she was listening to Bucky Barnes crying over Steve Rogers, just like Aunt Peggy used to, and her life was suddenly to damn weird to exist. She held her breath for the inevitable collapse of space time.

Instead, Barnes spoke to her: “You don’t gotta pretend ta sleep just ‘cause I’m blubbin’ over here.”

“I thought you’d rather be alone,” Sharon said, shifting up.

“Don’t really have that choice do I?” he said, the lights had dimmed for the night cycle, and he was cast all in shadows, head bowed towards Steve, hair drifting around his face.

“Well, if you didn’t put the med techs in fear for their life. . . .” Sharon said dryly. He turned towards her enough that she could see his jaw work, than away again.

“It surprised me, they managed to keep him under the whole time.” he said, softly, “Never managed it with me,” His head swung up to catch her eyes, and she could see how his face was streaked with tears, “Or maybe they never tried.”

It took a second for that to sink in, but when it hit—“No-“ Sharon’s voice broke, “No one here would do that.”

Barnes snarled, “Maybe you forgot how they kept me in your basement.” Which hit a little closer to home than he intended, considering, “How am I supposed to trust any of them? Any one of them could have been. . . .” he shook his head.

“Steve trusts us.” Sharon said.

“Steve,” Barnes said, waving at the bed _illustrating exhibit A_ , “Is an idiot.” It startled a laugh out of Sharon despite herself. Barnes tried to look offended, but he wound up smiling too.

“You aren’t what the propaganda posters made you out to be.” Sharon said, thinking that Aunt Peggy’s commentary closer to the mark.

“Yeah, they never called Steve a stubborn cuss with a death wish, either.” Barnes said, “Damned unreliable.” He frowned down at Steve, and lapsed into silence. Sharon didn’t want to leave the conversation there, but she wasn’t sure where to take it next either.

She began to drift.

“What do you think your chances are?”

Sharon snapped back up, “What?”

“If I have to get him out, and you have to stop me, what’re your chances?” Barnes asked. He was watching her now, almost as intent as he had been on Rogers.

_If you had to get him out I would let you,_ Sharon thought, _Hell, I’d help you._ Then she realized that was information he needed to know, so she said it out loud. Then into his surprise she said, “If, however, you panicked and attacked the Staff for no reason, I’d say you’d definitely kill me, whether or not I managed to stop you.”

“The Asset doesn’t panic,” Barnes murmured, “Ever. That’s what makes him so good.”

“People don’t usually talk about themselves in the third person,” Sharon felt the need to point out.

“The Asset isn’t a person, he’s a tool,” Barnes gave her a sly look, “Used to be he was Hydra’s tool, now he’s mine.”

“And who are you?” Sharon asked, partially to humor him, partially because she was curious how he’d answer.

“James Buchanan Barnes, Ma’am, pleased ta meetcha,” He said, with the kind of smile that lights up a room, and a little self-depreciating half-shrug; for a second she almost forgot that he was covered in gore that he wouldn’t leave Steve to wash off and that she’d spent half her day trying to figure out how to kill him. The Bucky Barnes charm offensive was devastating: Aunt Peggy must have really loved Steve.

“Well, do I get your name, Gorgeous?” He asked leaning towards her a little over the arm of his chair, giving her a filthy look through his lashes.

“I—“ the door bumped her chair. She got up to let the med tech through (and maybe regain her composure) but by the time she turned back to Barnes it was like looking at a different man. His face was an expressionless mask and she wasn’t even sure where the knife came from, but he hadn’t had it a moment ago. . . .

The med tech did his rounds and then he and his entourage left, and Sharon realized that if Barnes had panicked this visit she would have been completely useless. So when Barnes sat back down with out losing his game face, she figured it was probably for the best.

* * *

“Psst—hey, I think he’s wakin’ up!” The stage whisper started Sharon awake again. She blinked at Barnes, who grinned at her, before turning back to Steve.

“I think he was stirring a little at least, which is a good sign, right?”

“I guess,” Sharon said, “I’ve been undercover as a Nurse, but that didn’t entail as much actual medical knowledge as you’d think.” Barnes gave her a searching look, then shrugged and settled back into his chair.

Silence lingered.

“So. . . .Anyway, I figure I could get Steve out, but I got. . .probably a 70% percent chance of being fatally wounded in the process.” he said it casually, like small talk, as he slumped further down in his chair. _I know, right, it’s been raining a lot lately, and I have a 70% percent chance of dying trying to keep my friend being experimented on by mad scientists. How was your week?_

“Shitty odds for you,” Sharon said.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Barnes said, “Steve still gets out, right? And besides, you put your death at 100% and you’re still here.”

“Maybe I’m banking on the odds that there won’t be an inciting incident.” Sharon mused.

He shot her that smile again. “Oh, and how are those odds lookin’?” he asked, somehow managing to imply, _As good lookin’ as you?_ Sharon got the feeling that Hydra had under utilized their Asset: she never heard of the Winter Soldier being deployed as a honey-pot. Thank god. We would have lost. Everything.

“Pretty good, at the moment,” Sharon said leaning closer, then thought, _Wait, What? Are you flirting back? Stop it!_ but at the same time, Barnes was still smiling, and that was a little hard to think around.

“I know it’s crazy,” Barnes said, “But it doesn’t bother me that much, you know? I always knew I was gonna die saving this dumbass. First time, we were 15 maybe, and I was pullin’ this sumbitch off ‘im in an alley—that’s our entire childhood in a nutshell, I was pullin’ this sumbitch offa him in an alley—and the bastard pulls a knife on me! And I fight the guy off, but not before he sticks me some, and I think: Yep, Barnes, this is the day you die for Steve Rogers.” he laughs, “Wasn’t though. Not yet.” he laughs some more.

Slowly he seemed to realize Sharon wasn’t laughing too, and sobered up, “Sorry, ma’am, not the kinda chat you should have with a lady I guess.” He looked grim for a second, “It’s true though, every time I’ve died, I died for Stevie, and I’ll keep doin’ it until it sticks. Ya wanna know why?”

“Why?” Sharon asked, finding her mouth unexpectedly dry.

“Because he’s good,” Barnes had this look of determination on his face, some distant cousin of his game face, “And he always knows what the right thing is, and. . . .and he’ll do it, even if he’s all alone and doin’ it will kill him, he’ll do it anyway. And people see him doin’ right, and they wanna too. He’s—he’s the light in the darkness, and—so many of us would be lost without that light.” His face crumbled, “I been in that darkness, Miss, an’ trust me, a world without Steve ain’t worth livin’ in.”

Sharon felt an overwhelming need to go give the man a hug, but she wasn’t entirely sure Barnes would let her. Or refrain from stabbing her.

“I know what you mean,” she said, and tried to make the words as much of a hug as she could. “

‘Course, ya do, you got eyes, don’tcha.” Barnes said, “But what I’m trying ta say is. . . .There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for Stevie, not a thing. That kid? With the knife? Pretty sure I killed ‘im. Bashed his head open onna brick wall. Didn’t much care, coulda killed Stevie, and I couldn’t—“ he seemed to lose his trail of thought, head rolling drunkenly, “Maybe if I was good. . . .Maybe Hydra wouldn’t a had so much to work with if I was like Steve. But I’m like me, and they made me something else, Ma’am.” He grinned, dark and feral.

“And I’ll use every bit of it, every bit of it, to keep him safe, you understand?” Barnes said with the fervor of a zealot.

“I do.” Sharon said, and she did. And she was very afraid of Barnes right now.

“I need you to understand, ‘cause, Imma hafta stop soon. Gettin’ tired. The Asset can keep goin’ longer, but he ain’t gonna talk to you, and they’re all so, so afraid.” he laughed, “Stupid, Asset is all reaction, ain’t hurtin’ nobody that don’t deserve it ‘less he’s told to. Always does what he’s told. . . .” he trailed off again, his eyes drifted shut.

“Need you to watch them. Don’t trust, any a those fuckers. Fall asleep, wake up withouta arm, who does that? Putcha in the freezer. The chair.” He shook himself awake, almost jackknifing up, “I’m not the crazy one here. I’m trustin’ what you said, you said. You’d help me save him. The Asset don’t panic. You trust me, help me. Help him.”

“Yeah, Okay.” Sharon said. Something was running down her face, she swipes at it. Fuck, she’s crying.

“No, pretty girl, don’ cry. ’S’okay. Shh.” Barnes said and he reached out, like he’d brush away her tears, except he was still on the wrong side of the room. He seemed to realize that and stopped mid-motion. Then stopped to stare at his hand (it was the metal one) poking out of the half glove he wore, frowning at it and flexing it, looking so perplexed. _Who does that?_

Suddenly he smiled, all easy charm like the first time, “Hey pretty Lady, you never gave me that name.”

“Oh,” she said stupidly, “It’s Sharon. Sharon Carter.”

“Hey, that’s nice. Sharon.” he rolled it across his tongue, “Hey, I knew a Carter once!” he said it like a revelation.

Then the door swung open and he was standing, knife in hand, expression smooth as glass like he hadn’t been in the middle of a sleep deprived drunken episode seconds ago.

The med tech does his rounds and leaves, the Asset sits. Maybe he sleeps, just not deep enough that he could miss the door opening.

The rest of the stay goes like that, with Sharon watching the med staff almost as intently as she watched Barnes, and Barnes hovering in robot mode. Sharon wished he would talk again, but he didn’t. Even after Steve woke up, the Asset just stood there glaring at the doctors and playing with his knife.

Finally, Romanov comes and packs them both off to their apartment.

Sometimes Sharon wonders if Bucky would be happy to see her if she stopped by for a visit.

**Author's Note:**

> In summary, the Train Problem:
> 
> Test Giver: There's a train hurtling towards a broken track leading right off a cliff, but you are right next to the switch that can put it on a different, whole, track. Just as you are about to pull the switch you notice a man standing on the alternate track: what do you do?
> 
> Sharon Carter: And there's no other way to stop the train?  
> Test Giver: No.  
> Sharon Carter: Okay, I'll kill him, but don't expect me to like it.
> 
> Bucky Barnes: Okay, sure, but where is Steve in all this?
> 
> Steve Rogers: Okay, If I throw my shield at the guy I can probably knock him off the tracks. . .  
> Test Giver: No that's not how it works-  
> Steve Rogers: Then I'll go pull the guy off the tracks, Bucky'll pull the switch.  
> Bucky Barnes: Like hell I will. Stay the fuck away from the train, Rogers.  
> Steve Rogers: You know, I'm a super soldier, I'm just going to stop the train.  
> Bucky Barnes: What? Steve-No! Goddamnit. *runs after Steve*  
> Test Giver: *Facepalms*


End file.
